Mama Working From Home. Maybe I should wear heels?

Office-fancy Rachel. Well at least I did my hair.

I work from home. I am so very, very lucky. I get up in the morning, throw on yoga pants, a sports bra and a tank top. I don't shower. I walk Zachary to school, greet the nanny, and walk one small flight of stairs to my office. There is no commute. No dry cleaning. I take a mid-day run. I eat out of my fridge. It's pretty convenient.

And sometimes it's lonely. For those of you who know me, it's understood that I certainly enjoy an opportunity to dress in a cute skirt and heels, take the train into the big city and work in a sleek professional office. I like meetings with co-workers, I thrive on my relationships with others. I like being out in the world.

It's a trade off.. At this point in my life, I need flexibility and convenience. Working from home provides that. I am ever so grateful that I have a job and a company who allow me this amazing arrangement. But damn, I miss feeling like a grown woman. I miss people recognizing my face. In most of my professional interactions, I am faceless.

Yesterday I got up early, took out the flatiron, put on a pair of heels and took the bus into San Francisco. I met with real life coworkers, and worked in a spotless, peaceful environment. After work, I met a girlfriend for drinks and dinner in a trendy financial district restaurant. It was energizing. I loved every minute of it.

Life as a working mom of three is a balancing act. At times I miss what I could have been. If I hadn't taken off so much time, if I hadn't accepted only part time positions, I wonder, where would I be professionally?

But I am taking the time for my family, and ultimately I believe it is the right decision. I may have had a bigger title, a bigger salary, and  an office without a litter box, but my boys come first. I am lucky, so very lucky to have that choice.

And as long as every now and then I can put on something other than yoga pants, and break out the mascara, I'll be good.

Normal work from home Rachel. Yikes.